In my previous life, my dad disappeared mysteriously after going mountain climbing, but we found a suicide note he’d left in a drawer beforehand. He claimed he was bankrupt, depressed, and had let Mom and me down, so he ended his life on the mountain. The police found Dad’s clothes and bloodstains at the foot of a cliff. Mom blamed herself, thinking she’d driven Dad to his death, and fell into a deep depression. It wasn’t until I had to take a part-time job as a food delivery driver to pay off Dad’s debts that I discovered the owner of a luxurious mansion had the same ordering habits as my deceased father. I started investigating and found that the mansion was occupied by my supposedly dead father and his soulmate. My father noticed my investigation, and to keep the truth hidden, he brutally murdered Mom and me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Dad said he was going mountain climbing. I smirked. Since you’re so eager to die, I’ll help you on your way. In the darkness, the sound of running water in the bathroom was unusually clear. The man in the shower was humming a tune, his mood far too cheerful for someone about to end his life. I tiptoed over to his freshly packed bag and immediately spotted the plastic bag containing the bloodstained clothes. This was it. Today was the day. In my previous life, my father, Richard Grant, had deliberately sent Mom and me away, left a suicide note, and faked his death by jumping off a cliff. After he went missing, the police found the bloodstained clothes at the foot of the mountain and concluded he “couldn’t have survived.” When Grandma heard this “terrible news,” she slapped Mom ten times with her wrinkled hands. “You two women drove my son to his death!” she screeched. “If it weren’t for you, you vain woman, my son wouldn’t have needed to start a company. He went bankrupt and couldn’t even tell you, so he had to go and die in secret…” The suicide note was full of Dad’s heartache and love for us, with only a brief mention of the astronomical debts he owed at the end. When Mom learned the truth, she was devastated. For the rest of her life, she lived in a cycle of debt repayment and self-blame. As for my grandmother, who was supposed to be “outliving her own child,” she had already secretly claimed a huge insurance payout and was traveling the world. A few years later, I accidentally discovered the truth about Dad’s fake death. It turned out that the luxurious mansion I often delivered food to was home to my father, who should have been long dead! He and his soulmate, Rose Simmons, already had a child together and were living an idyllic life in their 10,000-square-foot home. After staking out the place a few times, I even saw my grandmother, who would often come to our house crying poverty and begging for money! Unfortunately, they discovered me during my quest for the truth. At Rose’s urging, my biological father, Richard Grant, stabbed me twenty-one times. “I brought you into this world, so it’s only fitting that I send you out,” he said. As I lay bleeding and in agony, I was reborn, back to the day before my dad’s departure.
Quickly piecing together my memories from my past life, I was determined not to let my dad succeed this time. After his shower, thinking no one was home, Dad made a phone call without any attempt to hide his words. “Don’t worry, Rose. By dawn, we’ll be together forever.” “The money’s being processed. We just need to wait three more days for it all to be laundered and transferred to our account.” “I know Wendy’s personality best. Even her daughter knows she’s a love-struck fool. Once I get my mom to put on a crying act, she’ll definitely shoulder all the debts herself…” As a husband intent on squeezing every last penny from his wife, Richard Grant knew my mom inside out. For over a decade, he’d been the pinnacle of a loving husband and father on social media! Initially, everyone who doubted him for marrying above his social status gradually changed their minds. In my previous life, after the suicide note was discovered, many people even consoled Mom. They said Dad wasn’t a bad person at heart, just unlucky. Who could have imagined he would fake his own death to commit insurance fraud with a fortune in tow? As dawn broke, I heard Dad’s footsteps in the living room. It seemed he was eager to leave. After the door slammed shut, I emerged from my hiding place in the storage room and headed straight for the study. In the open drawer lay the freshly written suicide note, the ink still glistening. The contents were etched in my memory. “My beloved Wendy, this is the last love letter I’ll ever write to you. It’s my fault that I couldn’t give you the life you deserved, even after trying my hardest. Meeting you used up all my luck in this world.” “The company’s situation is dire, and I can no longer sustain it. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. The only way out now is death.” “Please don’t grieve after I’m gone. All I ask is that you take care of my mother. We’ve been alone for so long, and it hasn’t been easy. Even as a spirit in another world, I’ll watch over you and our daughter. Your departed husband, Richard.” The back of the note was covered in bills. Just a few of those numbers added up would be enough to crush our mother-daughter duo for the rest of our lives. In my previous life, this suicide note was “accidentally” discovered by my grandmother. At the time, despite being barely literate, she immediately recognized what was inside and read it aloud in front of everyone. Every word dripped with false sentiment, but the countless unpaid bills were a harsh reality. Mom was already dazed from Grandma’s beating at that point. Looking back now, it was full of holes. With a loud rip, I tore the absurd paper to shreds. I opened the laptop in the study and found Dad’s company email. I easily logged in using a combination of Rose’s birthday. If it’s a suicide note he wants, I can write one too. In the email, I composed a new suicide note in Dad’s voice, pouring out his heart. I detailed how he had driven the company to bankruptcy and his plans to fake his death and run away. I confessed all the methods of his scheme in crystal clear detail. At the end, I made sure to express his earth-shattering love for Rose Simmons, his secretary and lover. “My darling Rose, don’t worry. The secret overseas account will contact you soon. Even if the whole company has to go down with me, I won’t let you suffer a single day of hardship.” The true recipient of this suicide note shouldn’t be my mom. Feeling satisfied with my handiwork, I hit the send button to all 305 contacts. The outbox instantly filled with countless records. Outside, the sky had fully brightened, and I received a message from the hiker I’d asked to keep watch. The short video showed Dad taking out the bloodstained clothes from the plastic bag, meticulously staging his own death scene. Through the screen, I watched everything with a cold smirk. “Oh, Dad, why rush to die when your grand love affair hasn’t even been witnessed by the world yet?”
When the police came to the door, I deliberately sent Mom away and answered it myself. “Hello, are you Richard Grant’s family?” one officer asked. “We received a report that he’s been missing for over twenty-four hours. We’re here to gather some information.” “That’s impossible, officer. My dad is on a business trip in New York. How could he be missing?” I replied calmly. “Are you sure he went on a business trip?” the officer pressed. Facing the police inquiry, I explained with composure. “Of course. My dad told us himself the night before last. Let me call my mom; she should still have the voice message Dad sent on her phone.” “By the way, officer, who reported this?” The two policemen glanced at their body cameras and exchanged looks. “Um, the reporter’s name is Rose Simmons. She said she’s the company secretary.” Things were starting to get interesting. Just then, the elevator doors behind us opened. “Wendy Curtis, you poisonous woman! Give me back my son’s life!” my grandmother shouted before she even saw our faces. Behind her were a bunch of relatives, all trying to squeeze in with an intimidating air. Her small, frail body swung a cane, aiming for my head. “Ava, who are you talking to at the door? Why haven’t you come in yet?” Mom called out, finally drawn by the commotion. Sharp-eyed, I quickly pulled Mom down to duck, and the tall police officer swiftly caught the cane. “Hey, why are you swinging that as soon as you arrive? Who are you people?” the officer demanded. “I’m her mother-in-law. She killed my son, so I have every right to hit her!” Grandma retorted self-righteously. The police were clearly displeased with Grandma’s words. “Ma’am, we live in a society governed by law. Even if you’re her mother-in-law, you can’t just hit people.” “Besides, the report we received only mentioned a missing person. How are you so certain your son is dead?” The atmosphere in the hallway suddenly shifted. Mom, still unaware of the truth, looked completely bewildered. I briefly explained to her about Dad being reported missing, and Mom immediately lost her composure. She took out her phone, about to try calling Dad, when Grandma snatched it away. “Stop pretending! My son must have been driven to his death by you,” Grandma accused. “Mom, what are you talking about? Richard told us himself he was going on a business trip to New York. Why do you insist he’s dead?” Mom snapped back, grabbing her phone. She found Dad’s voice message and played it for everyone to hear. The brief message clearly stated his destination and purpose. “Wendy, I’m heading to New York for a business trip. You and Ava should stay at your dad’s place for a couple of days!” The relatives who had been quick to jump to conclusions now looked at Grandma suspiciously. After all, they knew what kind of person she was. “That’s definitely Richard’s voice. That boy has always spoken softly, raised by his mother to be as delicate as a little girl,” one aunt commented. “Wait, how did Third Aunt know her son was gone?” another relative asked. “Yeah, we came in such a rush. On the way here, Third Sister kept repeating only one thing—that her son was driven to death by his daughter-in-law. When we asked for more details, she would just cry.” “Could there be some misunderstanding? We shouldn’t stick our necks out just for a free meal.” So all this commotion was just for a free meal? Grandma sure was stingy. Just like in my previous life. After receiving the huge insurance payout, Grandma had kept a large portion for herself. She traveled, wined, and dined, showing off her luxurious life in the family group chat, making everyone envious. Later, if it weren’t for her refusing to lend money to her own nephew for medical treatment, I wouldn’t have learned from my cousin about Grandma’s lavish lifestyle while she cried poverty. Too bad, I thought. She probably won’t even get to treat them to that meal now.
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